


Spotless Minds

by pharmakon



Series: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Catra Redemption, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memory Alteration, Post-Season/Series 01, Scorpia Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 15:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharmakon/pseuds/pharmakon
Summary: One more blue scribble at the bottom of the page drew her eye, and her fingers tightened on the paper enough to make it rip. In Adora's childish handwriting, underlined three times in crumbling wax, was one more phrase.Ask the rebels for help?Catra wouldn't have forgotten this.*(Or: Catra was right. Shadow Weaver's been messing with their minds since they were kids.)





	Spotless Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,' which I've never seen, but apparently it has something to do with memory alteration? So I figure that's close enough.]
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I wrote this whole chapter in like an hour, so. Apologies in advance? It might end up a little edited, later.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra makes a discovery.

As Lord Hordak's second-in-command, Catra had her own room, but she still found herself sneaking down to the cadet dorms to curl up in Adora's bed. It was two weeks after the invasion of Bright Moon, but the blankets still smelled a little like Adora. Catra closed her eyes against the reminder of her best friend and tried hopelessly to sleep.

Back when Adora was still her best friend, they had stayed up late into the night, talking about nothing in particular and sharing secrets. Their alliance back then had been iron clad, something that anchored them both even as training and Shadow Weaver's special attentions had verged on tearing them apart. They had fought sometimes, and had spent time not talking to each other, but they had always known what their first priority was.  _Who_ their first priority was. Back then, Adora had been someone Catra could rely on. 

It had been them against everyone else; this bed had been their base of operations, their refuge, the one thing they were allowed to share. Catra hadn't slept in her own bed in the dorm since she'd gotten sick back when she was thirteen, and even then it had only been so Adora didn't get sick along with her. Instead, they had stayed out of sight, Catra hiding out in the pipes and muffling her coughs while Adora ran interference and did training for both of them. Catra had gotten in trouble afterward for slacking off.

It was always better to be punished for slacking off than for being sick. Only one of them meant you could still be useful in battle, and, well. The Horde accepted nothing less. Its soldiers were meant to be perfect, at the top of their game at all times, unstoppable fighters and noble killers every one of them. Catra had focused on the important parts-- the  _fighter_ part, and the  _killer_ part. The part where they were soldiers.

Adora had always focused on the  _noble_ part, instead. Catra never had been able to convince her that nobility wasn't a thing.

And how _noble_ , leaving your friend for the enemy, going against her when you  _swore,_ you  _swore--_

Someone in another one of the beds snuffled into his sheets, and Catra ducked down in case on of them looked over at her, sheathing her claws and removing them carefully from the mattress. If she were caught down here, she'd never hear the end of it. 

Speaking of Horde requirements, how had Kyle even managed to stay a cadet for this long? He barely managed the right way to hold a staff.

Maybe Shadow Weaver had just wanted there to be five of them? Five: the magical number! Or something. Catra didn't pretend to understand Shadow Weaver's bizarre whims.

After a while, Catra gave up on sleep and and growled under her breath. There was  _no reason_ for her to be so attached to Adora. Adora was a traitor, was an idiot, was someone who had always pushed Catra down to second best. Catra had never gone anywhere until Adora had defected. Now, she'd bested Shadow Weaver once and for all and had taken her place. She'd helped a princess hack the planet! She was leagues above Adora, and done with her, and if Adora didn't like it--

Well. She wouldn't come back to the Horde even _if_ she didn't like it. Catra knew that much. 

Catra didn't want Adora to come back to the Horde, anyway. If she did, Lord Hordak would probably have her imprisoned, and even if she were reinstated... she'd be a Force Captain at most, wouldn't she? Not on Catra's level. And having Adora rank less than her in the Horde would just be _weird_. Even in the Rebellion she was a high-ranking soldier. It was what she'd been made for.

Catra let herself fantasize for a moment about what she'd do if Adora  _did_ try to return-- if she decided that the Rebellion wasn't worth it, that she shouldn't have left Catra behind, shouldn't have thrown away her best friend like so much unnecessary weight. She would laugh in her face. She'd say,  _you think we'd take you?_ She'd claw the hope from Adora's stupid pretty face--

A disgusted hiss, and Catra was sitting up. Enough of this. She could sleep in her own stupid bed. It wasn't like Adora was asleep in some rebel castle, wondering in her tiredness where Catra's weight was at her feet--  _stop thinking about it._

She glared down at the bed and paused, derailed. 

Her clawing at the bed last time had shifted the mattress, and there was a ratty paper corner sticking out from beneath it. Catra's eyes widened in interest. Adora had hidden something under her bed? _When?_ What secrets would she have felt the need to hide before she'd even defected? Something she could use against her, maybe, something that would give Catra the upper hand when she confronted her again, something that could remind her of when she'd been Adora's best friend, her  _equal--_

No. That was just pathetic. If she were going to use this discovery for anything, she would use it to defeat her enemies. Nothing more.

Sentimentality, too, was discouraged in the Horde.

Catra wedged a claw under the mattress and tugged at the paper until it came free, then scanned it for anything she could use. 

It was a childish diagram of where they lived in the Fright Zone-- of its underground levels, its hidden corridors, and its exits-- drawn all in crayon. There were blue arrows leading to all the different exits, and scribbled, crossed-out plans on the other side. Ugh. Looked like this was just some childhood drawing they'd lost back when they'd still had free time.

 _Guard shift 22:00,_ one of the scribbles said.  _Lonnie- > east exit, rendezvous WW. _Wait. What?

WW. Catra mouthed the acronym to herself. Whispering Woods? Lonnie? Why? Lonnie was more loyal to the Horde than anyone. She hardly ever went along with Adora's ideas. She didn't even like Catra.

A few more scribbles-- orange looked like Lonnie's handwriting, green like Rogelio’s, and... 

Red, in one corner, that said  _ceiling pipes go to maintenance_ with a scribbled cat face. That was Catra's handwriting, from when they'd been about ten years old. 

Catra froze. She didn't remember writing this at _all_. Maybe she'd just forgotten?

One more blue scribble at the bottom of the page drew her eye, and her fingers tightened on the paper enough to make it rip. In Adora's childish handwriting, underlined three times in crumbling wax, was one last phrase.

_Ask the rebels for help?_

Catra wouldn't have forgotten this. She wouldn't have forgotten an escape plan, from some time when they were little. From some time when they were missing Kyle and had honestly considered going to the Rebellion instead of staying with the Horde. She wouldn't have forgotten ten-year-old Adora, trying to coordinate an escape that would include all of them. She would  _never have._

So when they hadn't succeeded-- and they hadn't, because they were all still here, weren't they-- what had happened? What had Shadow Weaver done to them?

She'd been so convinced that she could get Adora to work for them again, if Catra brought her back to the Horde. Now, Catra thought numbly, she knew why.

Catra tucked the five year old plan carefully into her jacket and stood up from the bed. It was time to figure out what else she'd forgotten.


End file.
